What we choose not to see

Human nature is full of contradictions. It's often said that our capacity for empathy is greatest with those closest to us, and there's debate about whether this should be the case. But people can also cry out for the pain of others occurring in a distant place while simultaneously ignoring the injustices taking place at home. Recently, during the demonstrations in Karachi, Pakistan, this duality could be seen with the crowds expressing their solidarity with the Palestinian people. Yet, the very country that unites to defend Palestinian rights expels millions of Afghans seeking refuge after years of living in precarious conditions. This situation leads us to reflect, once again, on the selection of our empathy and how the contradictions in our actions can reveal our true nature.

The images of tens of thousands of people filling the streets of Karachi in support of the Palestinians are both striking and inspiring. With banners and chants, the crowd cried out for justice and peace, echoing a global frustration. But the tears of the Afghans being expelled were virtually silenced, and the situation for Afghan refugees living in Pakistan continues to deteriorate. After decades of conflict and insecurity, these individuals have sought refuge, only to now be forced to return to a devastating reality.

We thus face a heartbreaking irony: a people fervently mobilizing for a distant cause while ignoring the immediate suffering of their neighbors. And there are as many as 3 million refugees. The selectivity of empathy leads us to question the nature of our commitment to justice. How is it possible that we celebrate solidarity with those suffering in another part of the world, but fail to see the urgent problems around us? Our national identity is built on narratives of empathy with the oppressed, but what responsibility do we show to those living within our borders? In our case, how many things did we fail to do for many years, and what are we still failing to do today, to eradicate violence against women in our country? Or what actions have we taken to alleviate the suffering of migrants who arrive here—whose plight, I have no doubt, moves us when we hear about it?

Reflecting on these contradictions leads us to understand that humanity is in a continuous struggle to balance compassion and particularisms. True solidarity must transcend borders, and we must work for a world where every life has equal weight. Advocating for one cause shouldn't mean ignoring another. It's time to reevaluate our role as engaged citizens, ensuring that empathy is inclusive and that our hearts are open not only to distant struggles but also to those taking place next door.